


Adagio

by serviceace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Study, First Meetings, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serviceace/pseuds/serviceace
Summary: Yahaba leaned back against the wall of his bedroom, absentmindedly plucking the strings of his guitar, when all of a sudden, a soft but steady bass line began to join him from the other side.





	Adagio

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my secret santa gift to Fish ([@tattooedcrow](https://tattooedcrow.tumblr.com/)) who requested KyouHaba and cute meetings! Honestly, this was my first time writing the pair but I had such a fun time doing this that I couldn't stop writing it for hours on end. It became a bit of a character study on Yahaba but I hope you like it! Happy holidays! <3

Yahaba likes quiet.

The lack of noise was a welcoming gesture for someone like him who barely had any time for himself nowadays. With going to school full-time, keeping up his grades, and then working on the side, he just couldn’t find the time. He was a sophomore at a relatively well-known university and living alone in an apartment complex a block away. He didn’t exactly have much time to do anything anymore and it frustrated him beyond relief. Sure, he still played volleyball when he could, but this wasn’t high school, and collegiate volleyball wasn’t something he considered for himself. It wasn’t that he thought he wasn’t good enough or anything like that, Yahaba just didn’t see volleyball in his future in _that_ kind of way. He was honestly fine cheering for his friends and upperclassman from the stands. His best friend, Watari, also quit playing once they got into college so they could focus on their academics.

Even now, Yahaba was sitting in class completely tired out of his mind. He worked the night-shift the day before – something about exams coming up and students needing access to the library at all hours of the day – and hadn’t come home until nearly one in the morning. “ _God, I’m exhausted,”_ Yahaba thought, suppressing the urge to yawn. He didn’t want to be rude, but today’s lecture was seriously boring the hell out of him.

He reached for his side pocket where his phone was with his right hand and rested his chin on the palm of his left, idly pressing his thumb to the home button until it unlocked.  Brown eyes skimmed through the apps on his phone until it settled on his inbox and he opened it up without a second thought. There were messages from Oikawa, Watari, and of course, some from his parents. He replied to Watari first, agreeing to meet up at some point tomorrow for lunch, because he was the easiest (and most straightforward) to text. Taking a glance at the clock above the front door of the lecture hall, Yahaba groaned inwardly, letting his head drop to the desk. There was still another twenty minutes or so of class. “ _I could really go for some tonkatsu right about now,”_ the brunet said to himself.

Mulling it over in his head, Yahaba decided it’d probably be better to stop by the convenience store on the way home as opposed to going to the cafeteria. He had a limited number of meals for the semester and didn’t want to waste it after having already bought coffee and a muffin to-go from the café on the way to class. _“I still have to go to work after this,”_ he whined. He had the night-shift again, not by choice this time, but because a co-worker had called in sick. _“At least I’ll get paid.”_ Absentmindedly drawing scribbles on the corner of his notes, Yahaba sighed, practically willing time to go by faster. _“I wonder how Watari’s doing. I feel like I haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”_ The last time he spoke to his best friend was on Wednesday (or was it Tuesday?) and it was Friday now. _“Maybe we can toss the volleyball around later.”_

Yahaba’s daydreaming must have worked because not long after he began shading in the cell lines of his notes, the other students slowly began to rise, signaling the end of class. He stood to his feet too and chimed in with the other students as they thanked their professor for their lesson. _“I’m free!”_ Well, partially free, he added as an afterthought, shoving his books and notes into his messenger bag. He descended the stairs of the lecture hall, untucking the headphones in his hoodie and putting them into his ears. The brunet set his playlist to shuffle and walked out of the mathematics building, humming along to the music playing in his ears.

With a student population of 11,000, MiyaU’s campus was decently sized, stretching across maybe 500 acres or so of land. The buildings were all generally located close together but there was indeed a public transportation system that went around the school. Yahaba would be lying if he said he honestly hadn’t considered taking the bus just to get to class even though he really only lived maybe fifteen or so minutes away. The library was located at end of Main Street (where he currently was now), flanked on both sides by the biology and chemistry buildings. He wasn’t a science major or anything like that, but he did put off mathematics until his second-year so he could have an easier time adjusting to his new workload.

His feet took him to the library and as he climbed the stairs, Yahaba could already feel his mood lifting. As tired as he was, there was just something about working at the library that calmed him. He wasn’t anyone special, just a research aide that made minimal wage returning books to their rightful shelves. There were even times where his job was kind of cool and he got paid to help students out with their projects. Despite all though, he did like his job. He usually didn’t work Friday nights, but Aone had covered for him the month before when he needed to finish a paper, so here he was.

“Well,” Yahaba began, pausing a little in his step as he looked up at the building in front him. “Time to go to work, I suppose.” He walked through the doors and made his way to the front desk located to the left of the lobby, easily navigating through the crowd of students. He lifted a hand in greeting and nodded at Terushima, another one of his co-workers, and signed in to log his hours.

The brunet went into auto-pilot just then, going about his tasks almost robotically. Yahaba took care of his usual duties: sorting through the returned books, cataloguing the returns, and then re-shelving them. They were usually brought back in relatively-good condition but this one asshole definitely spilled coffee over three of these pages because they were definitely _not_ there when Yahaba had checked it out earlier. “Not even a note or a formal apology,” Yahaba cursed. “I’m so e-mailing your ass and filing a complaint.” With another huff, he put the coffee-stained book back onto the cart and went back to work.

By now, it was nearing eleven or so at night, and the library was pleasantly quiet. As irritating as it was being a student aide, Yahaba valued nights like these when he could hear himself think. _“I know I complained about it earlier, but this isn’t so bad.”_ From his position behind the large wooden shelf of encyclopedias, the sophomore could see the desk lights slowly beginning to dim as the students started gathering their things. One by one, they filed out, tiredly making their way down the stairs or towards the elevators. This year, MiyaU’s library stayed open during midterms, but floors two through seven were strictly closed during the night hours. The staff kept the first floor open of course, (hence why Yahaba was working the night shift), but everywhere else was off-limits.

It was kind of nice, in a round-about way.

Yahaba could do things at his own pace; re-shelving books was repetitive after all, so it was nice to be able to have a whole floor to himself. He could listen to music without anyone giving him shit or bothering him, or even take his time and leisure about until his hours were up. The way he saw it, it was a win-win either way.

The brunet moved over to the railing that overlooked the main lobby, leaning forward and resting his chin on top of his folded arms. Yahaba watched the various teachers and students shuffling out of the library idly, his eyes lingering on some more than others. People watching had become a bit of a habit he had unfortunately picked up while working at the library. He couldn’t help it, staring at book bindings for hours on end did get boring after a while. _“At least I’m subtle,”_ Yahaba thought, in an attempt to comfort himself.

“That probably doesn’t make it any better,” Terushima suddenly laughed from behind him.

Whirling around, Yahaba fixed his friend with a confused look. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yep,” the blond replied back, exaggerating the word with a pucker of his lips. “No worries, there isn’t anyone else up here but me and you.” The former wing spiker wiggled his brows teasingly before adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. “I’ve been sent to tell you that you can go home now. Mizoguchi-san is giving us the rest of the night off so we can go home early for a change and relax some before midterms start.”

“Seriously? Thank god,” Yahaba said. “Are you heading home then?”

Terushima nodded in response. “Yeah, I’ll be going soon.” Shifting his weight over to his other foot, he looked over at the whiteboards scattered along the walls of the study rooms, each and every one of them still boasting forgotten equations or abandoned problems. “You going to be okay? Want me to help clean up?”

Yahaba waved away his question almost immediately. “Nah, I’ll be alright! Besides,” he paused, the corner of his lips curving upwards in a knowing smirk as he pointed a finger at Terushima. “You’d be keeping Misaki-san waiting, wouldn’t you?” Not even a second after her name left his lips, Yahaba saw Terushima’s face flare up and he laughed outright, placing a hand on his hip. “That’s what I thought! I appreciate the gesture, but go home, Terushima. Your girlfriend’s waiting for you.”

The other student let out an embarrassed grunt and rubbed his nose with the back of his fist before grinning. “Aren’t you cheeky? Fine, I’ll see you next Tuesday. Thanks again for all your hard work,” Terushima said, bumping his shoulder with that of Yahaba’s.

“Be careful on your way home!” Yahaba waved, watching as Terushima disappeared behind the shelves of bookcases. Once he was sure the head of blond hair was gone, he stretched out his arms briefly before looking around the room. There were five or six study rooms that needed to be cleaned before he could call it a day, but the fact that he could go home once all that was taken care of invigorated him. There was a slight skip to his step, a quick burst of energy almost, as he wiped down the whiteboards and pushed in the chairs. It didn’t take him too long, maybe an hour at the most, but once the seventh floor of the library reached his satisfaction levels of cleanliness, he figured now would be a good time as any to call it for the day.

 _“I just need to log in my hours and then I’ll be good to go,”_ Yahaba thought, already making his way towards the flight of stairs that would lead him down to the lobby. Like the other aides, he usually kept his things in the common area by the front desk. _“Oh damn, I totally forgot I still have to pick up dinner on the way home.”_ With a sigh to himself, the brunet began to descend down the stairs, his hand sliding down the rail. _“I probably won’t be home until after midnight again.”_ Rounding the corner, Yahaba was just about to step down the next flight of stairs when the sound of a door opening thundered throughout the staircase and made him stop in his tracks. _“What the hell? No one’s allowed to be up here.”_ Yahaba’s brows immediately furrowed in disdain, practically ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind, when a voice started to vibrate through the walls of the corridor, effectively stopping him in his tracks and causing him to stop moving all-together.

The voice sounded husky yet oddly modulated all at the time. Undeniably male, there was a sort of innocence and passion to it as they sang. Almost like that of a child-like wonder and excitement, but still low and comforting, the stranger’s voice travelled easily through the walls of the stairwell. Whoever it was, his voice was smooth and clear – Yahaba didn’t need to be musically inclined to know the controlled power behind it all. Sure, he had an acoustic guitar that he messed around, but this? This was something else entirely.

It was soothing in a way that he couldn’t quite describe.

Yahaba could feel himself growing warm, a sense of fondness he didn’t even know he could feel, enveloping him tenderly. The stranger’s voice rolled over the walls of the stairwell in an almost hauntingly beautiful way, a memory Yahaba would not soon forget.

Could you even call a guy’s voice beautiful?

 _“Of course, you can,”_ the brunet found himself thinking, absolutely dazed. Against his better judgement however, his feet seemed to take off on their own and he began descending the stairs once more. Yahaba took the utmost care to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to scare off the stranger singing, his heart racing. He’d lie if asked, but there was a part of him that desperately wished this moment would never end. The former setter made his way down the stairs as quickly as humanly possible, but he soon learned how fickle life could sometimes be because the further down the stairs he got, the farther away the voice seemed to be. Whoever it was, they were leaving, and Yahaba couldn’t begin to deny how disappointed he felt.

By the time he reached the lobby, the voice was gone, and here he was, standing alone amongst the sleep-deprived students of the first floor. Reaching up to place a hand on his still rapidly beating heart, Yahaba willed himself to calm down. Inhaling slowly and then exhaling just as slowly, he took a moment to relax. _“That’s a shame,”_ he thought. _“I would have liked to meet them.”_ The brunet lingered a bit before shaking his head somewhat regretfully. _“I guess it can’t be helped.”_

And with that, Yahaba paid it no mind and went on with the rest of his night. It was late at night when Yahaba got home and to be honest, he was pretty tired. There was an unusually long line at the convenience store that firstly delayed his night and then his stove started acting up again. He wrestled with it for a few minutes before groaning loudly and ended up just throwing his dinner into the microwave. _“I should just call it a night,”_ he said mentally. _“I’ve done enough for today.”_ He slipped into bed not long after, settling into the covers comfortably. He laid there for a bit before sighing to himself and rolling over to lay on his stomach.

Yahaba didn’t know why he felt like things were a bit too quiet for once.

 

* * *

 

A couple of weeks passed and Yahaba got on with his life. He went to class like usual, did his homework like usual, and went to work when he needed to. He was scheduled to work the night shift two days out of the week but had failed to reunite with the mysterious baritone who took his breath away. The brunet even went out of his way to go down the same flight of stairs at the same time each and every night, but to no avail.

Yahaba was met with silence each and every time.

He had always been rather optimistic in nature though so it honestly didn’t bother him too much. If anything, he felt lucky to be able to witness something so intimate. He told Watari about it over lunch the next day and was teased relentlessly. His best friend even went as far as to say that Yahaba most definitely had a “crush” on the guy. _“Save yourself the embarrassment and just admit it,”_ Watari grinned, nudging him with his arm until he was a blushing mess. Okay, maybe not exactly a crush per se, but Watari _did_ have a point. Yahaba definitely wanted to hear him sing again.

“I bet he only comes around on Friday nights,” the former setter found himself thinking on a Tuesday afternoon as he took off his shoes and entered in through the front door of his apartment. He usually worked today but Terushima begged him to let him take his shift. With Christmas coming up, Yahaba honestly wasn’t surprised; Terushima was probably trying to get in some more hours so he could get his girlfriend a present or something. Yahaba wasn’t used to having so free time during the week however so it left him feeling a little bored honestly. If he was at work, he could at least waste time doing that. He let his messenger bag drop to the floor by the coffee table and removed his hoodie, stretching out his limbs after doing so. “Maybe I should ask Mizoguchi-san to schedule me on Fridays.”

Floating over to the fridge, he scanned it briefly and sighed once he saw how empty it was. “It looks like I need to go grocery shopping again.” Yahaba made a grab for the oolong tea and downed a bit of it before throwing it back inside. He felt somewhat fidgety, restless even, as he looked around the living room for something else to do. A frown marred his face as he retreated to his bedroom, hoping he’d find something there. He really, really, _really_ , wasn’t used to some free time during the week so this was really throwing him for a loop. Feeling the need to busy his hands with something, Yahaba reached for the acoustic guitar he had propped up against the wall. “This should do it,” Yahaba grinned.

Throwing the guitar strap over his shoulder, he settled against it comfortably. He hadn’t been playing for long, maybe a couple of years at the most, but the guitar brought comfort to him in a way that not many other things could. His father had gifted it to him once he was recruited to join the volleyball team back in high school as a congratulatory gift. Yahaba wasn’t amazing or anything like that – probably mediocre at best now that he thought about it – but he did know how to play some chords and a song or two. _“I used to play a lot when I was in high school,”_ he thought.

Things were so much livelier back then.

The brunet studied his guitar intently, sweeping his gaze from left to right and then back up again. Smoothing his fingers against the wooden varnish of the guitar’s body, he chuckled softly. _“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,”_ he apologized. _“I probably don’t even deserve to play you anymore.”_ Yahaba touched the frets of his guitar gently and hovered over it briefly before flexing his fingers, wanting to run his fingers along the grooves of the strings. _“Be kind, okay?”_ Getting into position, he then began to strum experimentally.

It didn’t sound _too_ bad but…

Well, he was definitely out of practice.

“God, I suck,” Yahaba laughed. He probably sounded awful to a trained professional but he didn’t even care and just kept on playing. There was a weird sense of freedom to music that he couldn’t help but appreciate. He could be the world’s worst guitar player and it’d still be okay because in a way, that’s _exactly_ what music was. It didn’t matter that he was out of tune or that his rhythm was off, music was freedom in of itself.

He only knew one song by heart, but he played and played it over and over again until his fingers started to ache and his stomach began to growl. Knowing he should call it quits soon, he allowed himself one more song, and as his fingers danced with the strings of the guitar, he felt oddly at peace himself. This was nice, it really was. Music was probably the closest to Yahaba had ever encountered to real magic; there weren’t any tricks or secrets to it. It was pure and real. It moved and it healed. Music did so many incredible things that it made Yahaba wonder why he even liked silence in the first place. _“I should start playing again,”_ he decided.  

Yahaba leaned back against the wall of his bedroom, absentmindedly plucking the strings of his guitar, when all of a sudden, a soft but steady bass line began to join him from the other side. It was patient, almost as if whoever it was cautiously treading on open water and observing him silently. They didn’t try to overshadow him, but revealed enough of themselves that they could support him. The former setter was absolutely entranced, counting the rhythm in his head to try and match their time. _“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”_

They danced together for what seemed like hours until the bass line slowed to a stop and heavy silence fell over them. Breathing heavily, Yahaba’s heart began to race. _“Who are you?”_ the brunet thought, his fingers still pulsating. _“Is it you?”_ The rhythm sounded so beautiful, like a melody that only _they_ could play. It was overwhelming him, washing over him like waves, to the point that when Yahaba heard the distinct sound of a door opening, he quickly jumped to his feet and practically sprinted to the front door. Throwing it open like some madman trying to get away from a fire, Yahaba scanned the hallway quickly until his gaze settled on a retreating back walking towards one of the stairwells. “Hey!” Yahaba cried, running down the hall. “Hey, wait up!”

The person paused just then and turned to look over his shoulder, his expression confused and bewildered. There was tension in his shoulders but as he turned around fully, he removed his hands from his coat pockets and flexed them uncertainly. He waited for Yahaba to catch his breath and looked at the panting boy before him strangely. “What?”

“You’re the one from the other night, aren’t you?” Yahaba said. “The one from the stairwell?” He could feel his heart beating rapidly in anticipation, all too ready to burst out of his chest. His voice was coming out slightly raspy and he felt breathless, but there was no mistaking it, this was him, the mysterious baritone from the other night. Yahaba _finally_ found him, he finally fucking found him! “I know it was you,” Yahaba whispered hotly.

The other boy looked to be about the same age as him and he had piercing hazel ideas. His hair was short and shaved on both sides, with blond locks that contrasted his naturally dark hair. His eyeliner was black and winged at the tips, immediately drawing Yahaba’s attention because he was undeniably handsome. He didn’t say anything for a little while but nodded slowly. “Yeah, that was me.”

“What were you doing in the stairwell? It’s off limits after hours.”

The blond paused once more to clear his throat and looked away, his brows furrowing slightly. “I usually cut through the library after work,” he explained, his fingers fidgeting slightly until they curled into fists by his side. Yahaba was just about to ask him why when the shorter boy beat him to it. “Better acoustics,” he stated simply.

“What’s your name?”

“Kyoutani,” he answered back rather roughly. He paused again, he did that a lot Yahaba noticed, before clearing his throat again and looking back at him. “What’s yours?”

Just like when they had first indirectly met, that very same child-like innocence and wonder was present in the air and it made Yahaba grow warm with affection. “You can call me Yahaba –.”

“I’m not very good with words,” Kyoutani mumbled, interrupting him. “Or people,” he added as an afterthought. The blond fidgeted again and started moving his fingers back and forth, almost as if he was playing an invisible piano. His voice was low and monotone, but it was honestly the best sound Yahaba’s heard in weeks. “But music, music I know.”

Yahaba smiled fondly. “I thought you sounded great.”

Kyoutani reached up to rub the back of his head embarrassingly, a bit of color dusting his cheeks, as he looked away once more and changed the subject. “I didn’t know it was off limits.”

“It’s okay. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Yahaba said. His voice was soft, comforting even, immediately drawing Kyoutani’s gaze. Their eyes locked, if only for a moment, as a newfound love seemed to wash over them. The former setter let out a small chuckle and scratched at his cheek, blushing shyly as he voiced what his heart had been telling him ever since that Friday. “Honestly, I think the library gets too quiet around that time around anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> a·da·gio  
> /əˈdäjō,əˈdäjēō/
> 
>  _adjective & adverb_  
> 1\. Slowly  
> 2\. At ease
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> tumblr: [@serviceace](http://serviceace.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [@aominaes](http://twitter.com/aominaes)


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